


(if i know what love is) it's because of you

by bluevelvetvideo



Series: Tumblr Prompts [10]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Feelings, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Character Death, Musician Jughead Jones, Vignette, but i am who i am, paperlesscrown's 30 Day Songfic Challenge (Riverdale), this wasn't supposed to be this long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 14:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20977493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluevelvetvideo/pseuds/bluevelvetvideo
Summary: a vignette-style AU for paperlesscrown's 30 day songfic challenge-trigger warnings on individual chapters-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good afternoon and welcome to my songfic challenge. I blame this entirely on @paperlesscrown because without her, I would never have even thought of this and where it went. Also, each chapter is varying lengths. Some are very short, others are a bit longer, I hope that's alright.
> 
> This is completely unbeta'd, as I wrote each day on their assigned day, to be released today, day 30. Any and all mistakes are my own. Please don't hate me for them.
> 
> HUGE shout out to Bina (@mieteve_minijoma) for listening to me rant and being a sounding board for when my ideas got a little too ridiculous. You are the best, girl. Thank you <3

** _day i : a song you like with a color in the title - Black Velvet - Alannah Myles_ **

Betty Cooper walked into the bar on the arm of Veronica Lodge under the pretense of supporting her best friend’s boyfriend, Archie Andrews. He was an amateur singer-songwriter and performed at open mic nights across the city. Veronica dragged Betty to as many as she could and feigned excitement when the redhead took the stage.

At the old, Irish pub one fateful night in April, she was brought to tears by the act that was just before Archie’s. The tall, lanky man with a mess of waves and a denim sherpa jacket took her by surprise. He sat at his keyboard, just stage left of center and adjusted himself awkwardly at the seat. 

“Hey everyone. I’m Jughead Jones,” he smiled coyly. “I hope you like it.”

_ Jughead _ , she thought, _ what an odd name. _She watched as his fingers moved deftly over the keys, playing a familiar melody, a song she hadn’t thought of since the days when Polly would sing to her when she had nightmares.

“When you’re down and troubled and you need a helping hand and nothing, oh nothing is going right,” he crooned and Betty can feel the tears prick behind her eyes. 

It had been so long since she’d heard this particular song, so long since she let herself hear it. But it was different, somehow more beautiful as it came from the lips of the stranger on stage. He had no idea how his song choice has impacted her, he likely never would. 

But in that moment, Betty let herself feel things she’d been stowing away since her older sister Polly passed away nearly ten years prior to that moment. She’s played it over and over again until the tracking on her CD skipped relentlessly. She never bothered to replace it after that -- not even when she made the switch to digital.

Veronica laced her fingers through Betty’s in attempts to comfort her, but it was entirely too late. Her tears were streaming down her face, but they weren’t entirely tears of sadness. Sure, she was sad for the harsh reminder of her sister’s life cut too short, but his voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. 

It was smooth in all the right ways, gruff and seductive at the perfect moments. In a split second, the history of the Carol King classic had rewritten itself, and it was all thanks to the beanie-clad man on stage. Betty squeezed Veronica’s hand, but let it go as she unconsciously walked toward the front.

“Betty, where are you --” but Veronica is cut off by the wave of Betty’s hand as she continues forward. 

She was mouthing the lyrics to the song, eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks and her hands wringing in front of her nervously. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her and smiled. It was a small smile, almost shy and boyish, but it was there. If she’d blinked, she’d have missed it.

“Thank you,” he said, getting up off of the stool and exiting to the wings. 

The crowd erupted in applause, but Betty stood there is absolute shock, her body simultaneously buzzing and drained. She didn’t clap. She remained there, shell-shocked even after his keyboard was cleared away and Archie was setting up his turn.

“Excuse me, Miss. Are you okay?” a voice said quietly behind her.

Betty turned around to find Jughead looking concerned in her direction. She blinked rapidly, and all she could do was nod.

“Yeah. I’m fine, thank you,” she said, a small smile upon her lips. “I have to tell you, Mr. Jones, you have the most beautiful voice.”

“I don’t know about all that. It made you cry, that can’t be a good thing,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. "And it's Jughead."

Betty reached forward and touched his forearm, a jolt of energy flowing through her. “Trust me, it is. That song carries a lot of weight for me, but now I feel like I can hear it again without bursting into tears.” She laughed to herself, “well, the _ next _ time I hear it. So _ thank you _ for giving that back to me.”

Betty leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

"I'm Betty."

“Do you maybe want to get out of here and talk? I know a diner around the corner with the best milkshakes in town.”


	2. Chapter 2

** _day ii : a song you like with a number in the title - 3 AM - Matchbox Twenty _ **

Betty and Jughead are still sitting at the diner by the time three in the morning hits. She’s thankful she doesn’t have work in the morning. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me your mother used to sing you that song when you were little before she took off?” Betty asked behind a bite of stolen french fry.

“Fucked, right?”

“Very,” she said brushing the salt off of her fingers over his plate. “I guess we must be two peas in a pod, then. Two very sad, traumatized peas,” she mused.

“But can we be sad, traumatized peas together again some time?” Jughead asked wistfully.

“You want to see me again?”

“How could I not?” he smiled sheepishly.


	3. Chapter 3

** _day iii : a song that reminds you of summertime - Blue Skies - Ella Fitzgerald_ **

It was the perfect day, blue skies with not a cloud in sight. The earliest signs of summer peeking through the rain of spring. In Central Park of all places -- the vast lush greenery wasn’t exactly known for crazy random happenstances.

Out on her morning jog alone, she nearly collided with a man stooped down low, camera in hand. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Betty began apologizing. 

The man stood up and brushed off his jeans and he smiled. “Betty, it’s okay,” he laughed.

She looked up and realized it was Jughead. She’d meant to call him, touch base to get together, but the Universe had other plans.

“I meant to call you,” she said. “But you know life never goes exactly as you plan it,” she chuckled nervously.

“Well, are you busy now? We can finally get that coffee we talked about.”

She looked down at herself, sweat shimmering on her skin in the midmorning sun. The strap of her sports bra was twisted and her yoga pants had definitely seen better days.

“I’m certainly not dressed to go out.”

He laughed again, and Betty smiled. She decided she liked more than just his singing voice.

“You’re dressed. And you’re out,” he pointed out. “That just seems like an excuse not to join me.”

“No,” she nearly jumped out of her skin. “I want to. But I am a sweaty mess. I’ve logged six miles already with a few more to go before I get back to my apartment.”

“Or,” he starts, placing the lens cap in his back pocket. “You congratulate yourself on running six miles and reward yourself with a beverage with me.”

_ This guy, _ she thinks. Betty mulls over his proposition for a bit.

“This is going to sound crazy, and I promise I’m not a serial killer, but come back to my apartment with me so I can shower. That way, I can’t come up with some bullshit excuse to not call you again.”

“So what you’re saying is that you want to shower with me?” He scrunched his nose in laughter.

“No!”  _ Jesus Christ, Betty. Get your shit together.  _ “I just have a bad habit of not going after things that I want because I concoct some lame reason why and how it could backfire.”

“So you want me?”

“I think I could,” she said shyly. 


	4. Chapter 4

** _day iv : a song that reminds you of someone you’d like to forget - Smile - Uncle Kracker_ **

By their sixth official date, Jughead was smitten. Let’s be honest, he was smitten the night they met, but he wasn’t afraid to say that he had full-blown feelings for the beautiful blonde who came crying into his life.

He was on his way to Betty’s apartment to pick her up with a bundle of wildflowers gripped tightly in his hand. He made his way up the three flights of stairs and knocked softly on the door.

“It’s open,” he heard muffled from behind the door. 

He slowly pushed the door open and perched himself against the arm of the couch, waiting for Betty to emerge from wherever she was hiding. He wasn’t in a rush by any means, but he was so in his own head about tonight that he was nervous. He's convinced himself that he was going to finally kiss her, if she’d let him, of course. After a few near-misses and his own awkwardness, it hadn’t actually happened yet.

She came padding into the room in a purple floral sundress, her hair down in soft waves. His eyes trailed from her toes all the way up to her lips, and when he finally reached her eyes, they were smiling. 

“Well don’t you look handsome,” Betty teased. 

He didn’t think much of his black button down shirt. He wore it often enough to work, but he realized she’s never seen him in much more than jeans and a flannel. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone.

“You are gorgeous,” he said nearly breathless. 

She was the light to his dark. They both came from checkered pasts, but the more he learned about her, the more he realized their pieces fit so beautifully together. He’d been thinking about her more and more and the thought of her drove him completely bonkers. Just when he thought his luck had run out, she waltzed into his life and made everything shine like gold, His very own Midas.

She looked down at herself and blushed before walking toward the door, slipping on a pair of white converse. He stood up from the couch and offered her the bouquet. She took them gingerly and pressed them to her nose before flitting to the kitchen and putting them in a vase.

“These are beautiful, Jug. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” he said slowly approaching where she stood arranging the flowers in the kitchen.

She turned around to find him standing right behind her with a nervous smile on his face.  _ You can finally do this,  _ he told himself. He licked his lips and his eyes darted from hers to her lips and back a few times before he took a deep breath.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Betty asked him, breaking through his thoughts. “It’s just that Veronica says that I can’t say that I have the feelings I do because we’ve never kissed, but I can and I do, but I want to kiss you because you make me smile and laugh -- “

Jughead cut her off, pressing his lips to hers tentatively. He pulled back and waits for her to open her eyes and when she does, she is smiling. She leaned in and joins their lips again. His hand is at her neck, thumb caressing her jaw and he wants to stay in that moment for as long as he can. 

He doesn’t think it could possibly get better, until her tongue swipes at his bottom lip and he knows he is exactly where he was meant to be.


	5. Chapter 5

** _day v : a song that needs to be played loud - Mr Brightside - the Killers_ **

Not long after Betty returned from her date with Jughead, Veronica came waltzing into her apartment demanding details. Betty was all too happy to oblige.

“You said I couldn’t possibly know if I had feelings for him because we’d never kissed.”

“No, I said you won’t know until you fuck him,” Veronica corrected.

“Well,” Betty started, trying to build the anticipation. “I didn’t sleep with him, but we did finally kiss.”

“I thought this was going to be juicy! You’re  _ killing _ me, here!” Veronica said, dramatically flinging her arms in the air. “It was only a kiss!”

“Let’s just say, I don’t think we’re too far off from further exploration,” Betty said, biting her lip and thinking about all of the things she’d like to do with Jughead.


	6. Chapter 6

** _day vi : a song that makes you want to dance - Footloose_ **

Betty was proud of herself. She was able to plan a date without Jughead finding out what it was going to be. She wanted to make it special for their six month anniversary. She’d remembered a one-off comment he’d said in their first few weeks of talking.

She told him to be at her apartment at two in the afternoon. She was already waiting by the door, anticipating his arrival. He was fifteen minutes early. Betty kissed the side of his mouth and grabbed his hand, pulling him back down the stairs toward the truck she borrowed from Archie. 

“This isn’t your car,” Jughead stated matter-of-factly.

“Keen eye,” she teased, climbing into the driver’s seat.

They drove, leaving the crowded streets of Brooklyn for the country roads of Riverdale.

“Honey, I know you said you weren’t a serial killer, but if you don’t tell me where we’re going, I might start reconsidering that fact.”

Betty can hear the trepidation in his voice. 

“You’ll see. I promise it’s worth it. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

They passed the sign that welcomes them to Riverdale and she made a few quick turns before telling Jughead to close his eyes - what was next was a surprise.

When Betty pulled into the Twilight Drive-in, there were only two other trucks. She was grateful for it, and upon further inspection, they were the trucks the Drive-in provided for extra seating. They were the only ones there for the last matinee movie. The previews had just started and she was filled with the warmth of nostalgia

“Okay, Jug. Open your eyes,” Betty said, her face a mixture of nerves and excitement.

She watched Jughead’s face, trying to gauge his response. He was quiet, but his jaw was slack.

“A drive-in? I haven’t been to one since I was a kid,” Jughead says, but it sounds like it was meant more for himself than for her.

“I remember,” Betty said, taking his hand and threading her fingers through his. 

“You are incredible,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

She hummed against his lips before pulling away and slipping out of the cab of the truck. Betty pulled the tailgate down and hopped into the bed carefully, waiting for Jughead to join her. She had it setup with pillows, blankets, a thermos each of coffee and all of his favorite snacks.

When he finally gets out of the car, he is standing and staring at her in awe. Betty patted the space next to her, urging him to join her. He climbed in carefully and plopped himself next to her; she immediately snuggled into his side. 

He kissed her forehead gingerly and smiled against the skin. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” 

“You made me cry in a crowded bar,” she teased again. “But, I’m really happy you did. Happy anniversary, Juggie.”

He kissed her again.

“What’s playing?” he asked as the music of the beginning of the film started. His face scrunched when he realized what movie it was.

“Footloose, really?”

“It’s a classic. At least for me. You’ve been showing me your classics, so now it’s time to show you mine.”

“You can show me yours whenever you want,” Jughead said lowly, his innuendo very clear.


	7. Chapter 7

** _day vii : a song to drive to - I’m Not Okay (I Promise) - My Chemical Romance - _ ** _ a flashback vignette. _

_ Four months into their relationship and he fucked it up. That had to be a record for him. _

_ He told her no. She had gone out of her way, and he gave into the Jones Family mentality and told her no. That’s how he ended up in Archie’s truck driving down some highway he can’t remember the number of in New Jersey.  _

_ “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He berated himself. _

_ He was flying down the empty highway at two thirty in the morning, knowing damn well he had to be at his day job in only a few hours. He clicked on the radio, tired of listening to nothing but the wind whistle through the cracked back window and the gravel under the tires. _

_ I’m not okay. “Yeah, me either Gerard,” he said as the radio played mockingly. _

_ Betty Cooper, the light of his life, had told her she loved him. And he told her no. He actually ran away from her. He called Archie and fed him some lie about needing his truck and took off hours ago. _

_ He finally clicked his phone back on - seven text messages. Just before he could pull over to the side of the road to collect his thoughts, his phone rattled against the spare change in the cupholder. _

_ “Dude, where are you? Betty has been pacing for hours. She’s a wreck. What happened?” Archie said before Jughead could even greet him. _

_ He turned down the dial to the radio and sighed deeply, pushing the car in park and slamming his head back against the headrest. _

_ “I really fucked it up,” he finally said. _

_ “What happened? Where are you?” _

_ “I’m on some highway in Jersey. I don’t know where exactly,” he started. “What did she tell you?” _

_ “Nothing. She hasn’t said one coherent thing since she got here. Veronica has been trying to calm her down, but nothing is working.” _

_ Jughead felt like a grade-A jackoff. _

_ “She told me she loves me,” Jughead confessed.  _

_ “So you borrow my truck and bail?” Archie sounds genuinely confused, and he can’t blame him. _

_ Jughead and Archie had a strange friendship. They knew each other from open mic nights around Brooklyn but they didn’t really start to be friends until he and Betty started dating four months ago. Double dates and game nights at Veronica’s apartment came with the territory of dating Betty and he enjoyed it, but he couldn’t get passed his familial curse. _

_ “Everyone I love leaves,” he stated plainly. “My mom said she loved me and bailed. My father couldn’t get his head out of a bottle of whiskey long enough to give a shit. She’s gonna do the same.” _

_ He could feel the tears prick behind his eyes and he rubbed them harshly to try to cut it off.  _

_ “You realize that’s horseshit.” _

_ “I told her no. I told her that she didn’t love me, that she’d wake up one day and realize she was wasting her time on a writer-by-day, musician-by-night lowlife who never left Brooklyn.” _

_ “You know you’re wrong, right?” Archie asked. “I haven’t known Betty too long, but I know that when Betty loves something, she does it with her whole heart. She doesn’t half-ass anything, especially relationships. That’s why she hasn’t been in one outside of you for years. She loves you, Jughead,” Archie said sounding more exhausted than he felt. _

_ The voice in the back of his head was quieting down. The one that told him he wasn’t good enough. The one that said he was worthless. The one that sounded like his drunk father. _

_ “Just come home, man. Explain it to her. I promise you she’ll understand.” _

_ Jughead can hear muffled words and what sounds like a hand over the receiver. Just let me talk to him, Archie, he can hear her sob and he hates that he’s made her cry. His heart clenches in his chest when he realized how much pain he caused her. He’s never wanted to be the reason she cried (again). _

_ “She’s with you guys?” Jughead asks, his voice barely above a whisper. _

_ “Yeah, Veronica won’t let her leave. Thank God.” _

_ “Good. Keep her there. I’m coming back.” _

_ Jughead frantically hit the end call button before putting the car back in drive and taking the next U-turn back into the city. It didn’t take him long, just over an hour to get back to Archie and Veronica’s. He pulls the truck back into its numbered spot in the garage and taps the button to the elevator that is going to take him to Betty. _

_ When the elevator doors slide open, he is greeted by a less than pleased Veronica who slaps him across the shoulder before walking away back to the couch. He follows her movements with his eyes, his feet not taking him further than the opening of the elevator doors.  _

_ He watches as Veronica sits down next to what appears to be a sleeping Betty and she strokes her friends hair and whispers soft words to coax her awake. She sits up abruptly and turns her head towards him. _

_ She flutters her eyes a few times, like she thinks she’s imagining him and the tears come rolling back and this time, he can’t stop it. He can feel them streaming down his cheeks, but he doesn’t make an effort to wipe them away. He needs her to see that he knows he screwed up.  _

_ Betty finally starts to get up and he can feel Archie’s eyes on him. On wobbly legs, she approaches him and stops a few feet away. She turns to walk down a narrow hallway, and he follows, his feet finally unsticking from the marble.  _

_ She leads him into a bedroom and waits for him to be all the way in before closing the door behind them. He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but he knew there would be tears and he knew he owed her an explanation. _

_ “Betty,” he started, but it came out choked as she stared at him with wide, glassy eyes. _

_ “You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Jughead,” she started. Her voice was small, almost as if she was convincing herself of it, too. _

_ “I know, and I’m sorry.” He took a tentative step toward where Betty was propped against the edge of the dresser. _

_ “You don’t have to say it back. You can just say you’re not ready,” she sniffled. _

_ Jughead sighed and closed the gap between them. He took her hands gingerly in his, like he was afraid she’d pull away, but by some miracle, she didn’t. _

_ “I don’t know what it is to have something so innately good in my life. We’ve talked about my past, you know I don’t exactly have a good model to base relationships off of. The last thing I wanted to do was mess things up, but,” he shrugged, “I’m a Jones, and it’s what we do.” _

_ “No,” Betty said matter-of-factly. “No. You’re scared and you’re using that as an excuse.” _

_ He stayed quiet, contemplating her sentiment. She was one-hundred percent correct. He was scared, terrified even. He had no idea what it was to truly be loved, but maybe with Betty by his side, he could learn how to accept it. _

_ “You’re right,” he said softly, gently pulling her to the bed and sitting her down across from him. “I have no idea what I’m doing and it’s easy to blame my parents for fucking me up. But they didn’t hurt you, I did. And I promise you, it’s the last thing I ever want to do.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly in his. _

_ They sat in silence, eyes connected, basking in his confessions, both seemingly lost in thought. He can feel another tear slip down his cheek and Betty reached up to wipe it away. He caught the pad of her thumb with his lips and he let it linger there until she moved it away. _

_ He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her skin. “I know I’ll be apologizing for the rest of my life, but I am. You are the last person who deserves my bullshit.” _

_ “I get it, Jug. Relationships are hard; they’re work, and sometimes they’re not worth it…” she trails off. _

_ “And sometimes they’re worth everything,” he finished. “Like this,” he said with a small gesture between them. “This is worth everything. I still don’t think I deserve you,” he said woefully. _

_ “Archie told me what you said on the phone, and I know we talked about it, but you’ve always got this air of confidence around you that it seemed like it didn’t affect you. You’re allowed to be vulnerable - especially with me. You deserve the world, Jug.” _

_ “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I have that right here,” he said pulling her in for a hug.  _

_ “That was cheesy,” she chuckled into his shoulder. _

_ “You still laughed,” he smiled. “And also,” he said stalling for what he really wanted to say. _

_ She pulled back out of his arms and stared at him expectantly. _

_ “I thought they said loving someone was supposed to give you courage,” he mumbled louder than he expected.  _

_ Betty’s eyes went wide. They were glassy again and he realized what was happening. _

_ “That’s not how I wanted this to go down,” he slumps his shoulders. “But I do love you,” he finally admitted. _

_ “I know you do, Juggie,” she said, falling backward onto the bed, bringing him down with her. _

_ “How?” _

_ “Because you wouldn’t have run if you didn’t.” _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: drugs/alcohol use; minor character death

** _day viii : a song about drugs or alcohol - There She Goes - The La’s_ **

Another night at the bar for open mic night had Betty sitting alone at a high-top, waiting for Veronica to show her perfectly painted face. She had been waiting five minutes before a raven-haired beauty joined her at the table.

“You’re not Veronica,” Betty said, reaching for her Manhattan and taking a sip.

“You’re Betty Cooper?” the girl asked.

Betty was confused. She’d never seen this woman before, at least she wasn’t sure she had. The longer she stared, the more familiar she looked, but Betty still couldn’t place her. Her eyebrows knitted together as she nodded her head, answering the girl’s question.

“I think you’re dating my brother,” the girl said and Betty’s eyes widen.

“Jellybean?” Betty leaned closer toward the girl.

“It’s JB, but yes.”

“What are you doing here? Does he know you’re here? Wait, I thought you lived in Ohio with your mom. Jug said he hasn’t seen you in ten years.”

Betty tried to quell her racing thoughts, but she had so many questions. She pulled her phone from her bag and shot an SOS text to Jughead. She knew it was hasty, but she did not know what to do, or how to handle herself in this very new situation. She needed Jughead there with her.

Within minutes, Jughead came rushing to her side and leaned in close, paying no mind to the person across the table. He asked her if she was okay, what had happened, but she couldn’t speak.

“Your sister is here,” she simply lifted her head and stared at Jellybean.

“Bean?” Jughead asked tentatively. 

“Hey, big brother. Can we talk?” Betty could see the forlorn look on her face.

“What is it, Jellybean. I have a set in ten minutes. Can it wait?” Jughead asked. Betty could hear the frustration in his voice.

“What’s another ten minutes?” she mumbled, but Betty caught it. “Yeah, have a good set.”

Jughead played beautifully and Betty stood, cheering for her love. When he came back, he brought with him another drink for Betty and one for himself. 

“Great job tonight,” Betty said kissing his cheek, smiling in adoration.

Jughead settled next to Betty, his arm finding purchase around her back as he tucked her in closer. He looked across the table to Jellybean as he took a sip from his whiskey.

“You wanted to talk?” Jughead asked, his fingers gripping tighter into Betty’s skin.

“Yeah, can we talk privately?”

“We are,” Jughead insisted, adjusting his arm around Betty.

Betty looked between the Jones kids and could see their clear resemblance. 

“You need to come out to Ohio,” Jellybean blurts out.

“Why the fuck would I go to Ohio?”

“Because mom’s dead. They couldn’t save her this time.”

Jughead’s grip on Betty strengthens. She places a comforting hand on his thigh, her thumb circling in attempts to soothe him. This time implies that they could before. Betty didn’t know much about his mother, only snippets of what he’s said about her leaving and her sordid past with hard drugs.

“Mom’s been dead to me since the day she walked out and took you with her,” he said, his voice still calm, but Betty could hear the bite behind it.

“C’mon, Jug. She’s still our mom -- “

“I don’t wanna hear it, Bean. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m not going out to Ohio. I’m not going to mourn a woman who didn’t give two shits about whether or not I was going to get --” He took a deep breath and recollected his thoughts. “I know you were little, but I wasn’t. Even dead, it’s not something I can forgive her for.”

“Okay,” his sister said, slowly getting up from her chair and tucking it back in. “This was clearly a mistake. I figured it would be better to tell you in person, but this clearly was a waste of time. See you in another decade, Jughead.”

Jughead slid out of his chair and approached his sister carefully. He wrapped her in a hug and whispered something into her ear that Betty couldn’t quite catch. To Betty’s surprise, the younger Jones sat back down.

They didn’t talk about their mother again. Thing even seemed normal, but she could taste the tension. She threaded her fingers through Jughead’s and squeezed his hand to remind him that she was there for him, no matter what.

“So, Betty. What is it you see in my idiot brother?” Jellybean joked, a smile wide on her face.


	9. Chapter 9

** _day ix : a song that makes you happy - Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and the Waves_ **

He felt like he was floating on cloud nine, walking on sunshine. Nothing, not even an apocalypse could bring him down. They’d waited for what seemed like an eternity, but he and Betty had finally consummated their relationship. It took them six dates to even kiss, four months to share I love yous, they’d celebrated their six month anniversary, but now he’d finally sealed the deal.

They talked about waiting - didn’t want their hormones getting in the way of getting to know the other. They bared their souls to one another, talked of their past relationships. Betty told him of the two other men she’d dated in college and how she didn’t think that sex was all it was cracked up to be.

He told her of Trula and Toni, the only other girls he ever considered dating. He told her that sex, for him, wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, and they both had a good laugh at Veronica’s wide eyes when they told her they still hadn’t slept together yet. Sex seemed to be the cornerstone of her relationship with Archie.

But they’d finally done it. It was a mix of fumbling hands and nervous hearts racing, but if he had to use one word to describe it, it would be magical. 

The way his hands easily slid up her bare back, how hers easily worked their way into his hair, how she gasped his name into his ear just above a whisper. The way her body fit perfectly with his, the flush of her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes as she came around him. How she seemed to know all the right things to do and say despite their limited experience. 

How she whispered her praises and love for him as she came down from her high. How he chanted how much he loved her when he reached his. Their post-coital snuggles and how it never seemed like she could get close enough to him.

He didn’t want to leave her in her apartment alone. He had wanted to stay, she’d asked him to, but without a change of clothing for his early shift at the paper the next morning, he was left with a pit in his stomach as he left.

_ “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked shyly, pulling the sheet up and over her chest, covering the marks he’d just made. _

_ “Tomorrow, my love,” he promised as he kissed her forehead. _

It didn’t matter that it was four in the morning. He was drowning in sunshine, and he didn’t want it any other way.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: death; grief; drug/alcohol abuse

** _day x : a song that makes you sad - say something - a great big world _ **

They walked home from their date hand-in-hand. Things had been doing well, despite their hiccups but there was a pit in Jughead’s stomach that he couldn’t quite get passed.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Betty asked, nudging his shoulder. How did she always know?

“Nothing,” he said, shooting her a hint of a smile, his feet still moving one in front of the other, leading him back to her apartment.

He could feel her eyes staring into the side of his face, but he didn’t say anything more - just continued walking. When they got there, they walked up the two flights and once inside, he plopped himself onto her couch after kicking off his shoes and hanging his coat.

Betty emerged from the kitchen with a coffee mug in each hand. She settled onto the couch next to him and placed a cup in his hand.

“Thanks,” he said. He felt her rubbing small circles at his back. “Do you think I should have gone?” he asked, still in a haze of his own thoughts and contemplations.

“Gone where?”

“Ohio. When Jellybean came out here. Do you think I should have gone back with her?” He looked over at his girlfriend and he can see the gears turning in her head. He knew that if anyone was going to be honest with him, it would be Betty.

“At the time I thought you might regret not going, but you seemed pretty adamant about it being a waste of time and energy. I know you didn’t have an ideal childhood with her. And it is completely fine to have cut her out of your life, but ultimately, whatever you feel is valid and I’ll support you either way.”

How was she always so understanding? He would never understand how this beautiful creature knew exactly what to say to him. 

“I hated her for a really long time,” he said, sagging back into the back of the couch, his arms flung over the back. “By the time I thought I was ready to maybe reach out again, I found out she was doing heroin. Dad said Bean moved out by the time it got too bad, but I was mad all over again.”

“You have every right to be mad, Jug.” 

He could feel the tears. They were there and they were ready, but he was still so conflicted. Gladys Jones certainly didn’t win any mother of the year awards in his lifetime, but without her, he wouldn't have Jellybean, and without her, he wouldn’t be sitting next to the love of his life.

The tears started to fall and Betty gently coaxed him down, cradling his head in her lap as her fingers soothed through his hair, in some kind of effort to comfort him. She stayed quiet, let him cry and sniffle and mumble his way through his thoughts.

“I think I’m more upset because of the what-ifs and maybes. Does that make sense? I don’t miss who she was, I miss what we could have had. I just gave up on her,” he finally said, as if something in his brain flipped and everything was incredibly clear.

“Of course that makes sense,” she whispered, leaning forward and kissing his hairline.

“I never got to say goodbye. I don’t even remember the last time I talked to her,” he sniffled. He wanted to call Jellybean, but he knew she was still upset with him for not going in the first place.

“Come with me to Ohio this weekend?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: death; anger; grief

** _day xi : a song you never get tired of - hey jealousy - gin blossoms_ **

They made the drive to Ohio in nine hours. Jughead insisted they leave in the middle of the night so they’d beat traffic. How could Betty compete with that logic? She hated traffic. And she knew that no matter he wanted that weekend, she would surely cave. 

Betty made sure Jughead let Jellybean know they were coming, on the off chance she stopped being angry with him and wanted to see them. They hadn’t booked a hotel room, unsure until the last minute if they were even going to take the trip at all. She’d never say it, but Betty was happy they were going. She knew what it was to grieve a family member and if he didn’t confront it now, he likely never would.

It wasn’t difficult to find where Gladys was buried, thankfully. When they crossed the city limits of Toledo, Betty text Jellybean from Jughead’s phone to let her know they were in fact in town and they’d love to see her before they journeyed back to New York. 

Betty was hoping that this visit would give him some kind of closure, something so he’d be able to forgive himself for writing her off - not that she thought he should feel guilty, but she knew that he did. 

They stopped quickly for lunch to try to calm his nerves, though she didn’t eat much. She was pretty sure she was more nervous than he was.

Jughead was driving up the unpaved road at the back of the cemetery and Betty’s head was resting against the window reading the names on the worn headstones. 

“Found her,” Betty said, pointing against the glass to a stone a few away from the roadway. 

Jughead pulled over and turned off the ignition. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked lightly.

“Please,” Jughead said looking at her.

She didn’t know what he was feeling or thinking, but there was pain written all over his face. He gripped her hand before finally letting go and taking a deep breath and getting out of the car.

He walked slowly toward the headstone marked  _ Gladys Jones _ carved with the Toledo Serpents insignia, her birth and death day. He took another deep breath before stopping, waiting for Betty to catch up with him and taking her hand in his.

Betty and Jughead stood in front of the black shiny marble and stared at it a while. She didn’t want to be the one to speak first, it wasn’t her place.

“Hey, mom,” Jughead finally said. He sounded like a lost little boy and it broke Betty’s heart. “So, this is my girlfriend, Betty,” he continued, trying to break the ice with no one.

Betty couldn’t help the small smile that curved her lips when he called her that, even after months of hearing it. That smile quickly fell when he dropped her hand and he could hear a near growl emanating from his throat.

“You know what, no. You don’t deserve pleasantries. Fuck you, Gladys. Fuck you and your bullshit excuses. Fuck. You!” he was screaming as he paced. She was thankful there was no one else that she saw in the area.

“And fuck you for bailing on me and dad. And taking Jellybean. You stole being a big brother from me. But you probably didn’t care. You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself.”

Betty had never seen him so seething mad. She had only known little snippets of his childhood, things he’s told her in passing, but never elaborated on. Now it seems it was for good reason.

“...and fuck your bullshit drug addiction. You couldn’t even stay sober for Bean. You were too consumed in your own life to even take care of her that she left you! What do you think that says about you, Gladys? Or did you still think you were the best mom in the universe because you remembered my birthday once after you left when I was thirteen?”

Betty felt the tears in her eyes. She had no idea he was in so much pain. 

“Because of you, I almost fucked up the best thing that has  _ ever _ happened to me. Because you made me doubt myself. You made me doubt that someone could actually love me or that I could love them. You were so close to taking that from me, but she didn’t let you,” his voice lowered. “Thank God, she didn’t.”

He sat down in front of the stone, at the base of her plot, weak and dejected. Betty didn’t hesitate to join him. She watched as he picked at the grass around him frantically. He took in a shaky breath before he looked up again.

“I was so mad,” his voice trembled. “I was so mad at you for so long. I think I always will be. And I know this is all the stuff I should have said while I knew you could hear me out, but I told myself that I was better off without a mom if she was anything like you. That I was better off without all your bullshit that you put Dad through before you ran. But I don’t think that’s true.”

Betty leaned her head on his shoulder and let him continue to ramble. She could feel his body shaking, trying to expel the years of pent up frustration all at once and before she knew what had happened, he was dissolved into tears. Hysterical, body wracking tears. 

She rubbed his back, in large, calming circles and whispered her love for him across his skin. Betty needed Jughead to know that he wasn’t alone in his grieving, that she would be by his side every step of the way. 

When he eventually calmed, Betty walked back to the car to grab a bottle of water for a hyper-ventalating Jughead. She grabbed his phone and called Jellybean.

“Hey JB, its Betty. I’m sure you’re still mad at Jughead, but we’re at the cemetery, and the plan was to leave pretty much right away, but he’s in no state for driving, and we don’t have anywhere to go. Would you mind if we came by for a visit, and maybe a nap?”

“I’ll text you my address. See you soon.”


	12. Chapter 12

** _day xii : a song from your preteen years - he loves u not - dream * a few months later * _ **

Everything returned back to normal. Jughead went back to the magazine, started writing music of his own instead of spending his time learning covers. Betty was working long hours in her office, covering multiple desks to keep it running smoothly.

It took some time, but their schedules finally aligned for a date night. It felt like it had been so long since they’d gone on a proper date, that he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by. Jughead picked Betty up from her apartment and they walked to their usual bar to have a drink.

He couldn’t get enough of Betty’s perfectly toned legs, on full display in her circle skirt. They took their time, walking slowly, stopping every so often in an alleyway to make out like giddy teenagers.

When they eventually got to the bar, they grabbed their usual spot at the bar.

"I'm just going to run to the bathroom," Betty said, kissing Jughead's cheek.

He smiled and tapped her ass as she walked passed. He ordered their drinks -- a vodka soda and a whiskey neat -- and waited, tapping his fingers against the bar with the melody that had been stuck in his head for the better part of three days. 

"Oh my God, Jughead?" He heard from behind him. He knew it wasn't Betty. Why would she be surprised that he was there. 

He slowly turned around and came face to face with Toni Topaz. He hadn't seen her since they were in their early teen years. 

"Hey, Toni," he said, trying to feign his best excitement. When she leaned in for a hug, he obliged.

"Crazy running into you here," she said and he felt bad that his enthusiasm didn't match hers.

"I mean, not really. We come here all the time," he shrugged.

"We?"

"Me and my girlfriend," he clarified. "She's just in the bathroom."

The look on her face told Jughead that she didn't believe him. Just over Toni's shoulder, he could see Betty coming back from the bathroom. He leaned back in his chair, thankful that he wouldn't be left alone with her.

The entire reason he never actually dated Toni was because she tried to steal him from another girl he was talking to when they were fifteen. As it turned out, he didn't end up dating either of them. He decided he had some semblance of standards.

Betty slipped in next to him, grabbing her whiskey from the bartop and taking a long sip before handing him his vodka drink. Her arm snaked around him protectively and pulled him a little closer.

"Who's this?" Betty asked, flashing the smile he knew she was forcing.

"Baby, this is Toni. Toni, this is my girlfriend, Betty," he said making a quick introduction.

He watched as Toni's face morphed from smug to shock. Jughead could see the gears turning in Betty’s head. He’d told her about Toni, to an extent. He told her he considered dating Toni, but after what he called the  _ Trula Incident _ , it never happened. 

“Wonderful to meet you, Toni,” Betty said. 

“Yeah, I guess,” the pink-haired girl replied. 

Betty’s grip was getting tighter, her nose nuzzling his neck. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was jealous and making a show of their relationship. 

“So, Betty,” the other girl started. “What is it you do? Flit around bars clinging to the talent?”

Betty let out a short laugh, startling Jughead. She turned her head, still at his shoulder and smiled saccharine sweet.

“I’m a paralegal with McCoy, Weatherbee, and Mantle in Manhattan. But based on your assumption, I’m going to assume that’s what  _ you _ do with your time.”

Jughead watched as Toni floundered. Her mouth was open slack, lost for words. Betty took another sip of her whiskey with a smirk on her lips. He was trying his hardest not to laugh, but the hysterics won out, laughter bubbling from his chest. 

“God, I love you,” he said into Betty’s ear. His voice dropped a tone. “Especially when you’re jealous.”

He could feel Betty fidget in her seat and the slight hitch in her breath. When he pulled away, she downed the rest of her whiskey, her cheeks aflame. He finished his vodka soda and turned back to Toni.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a reservation,” Jughead said as nonchalantly as he could.

They walked away, hand in hand, out of the front door, stopping once the door was closed for a fiery kiss - surely a preamble for what was to come once they were back to her apartment.

Dinner could wait.


	13. Chapter 13

** _day xiii : a song you like from the 70s - Time in a Bottle - Jim Croce_ **

The walk home took far longer than anticipated, but they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Sure, she was jealous, but there was something in his voice that did her in.

With Jughead’s lips pressed delicately against her neck, Betty struggled to find her keys in her purse to let them inside. His teeth scraped down her skin and she sighed in pleasure.

“You know I love that, Juggie, but I’m pretty sure Mrs. Wharton in 4-G doesn’t want to hear this from the hallway.” 

“I have no doubt that she’ll still hear you,” he grumbled against her neck. “Unless you think you can keep quiet for me?” 

Betty bit her lip, a new wave of excitement coursing through her veins. Her mind was reeling - they’d started exploring, sexually speaking, and she discovered things about herself that she’d never known before she met Jughead. They were learning together; she trusted him fully to not hurt her (more than she liked). 

“Do you think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” he asked again and she whimpered, nodding her head.

Eyes still locked, Jughead reached into Betty’s bag, pulling out her keys and unlocked the door. It was like magic. They were inside and Betty’s back was pressed against the door, her hand trailing to make sure the door was locked.

The way he was looking at her made her feel like the most important thing in his world. It made her heart race and her thighs clench. It was desire and love and fire. 

If she could make days last forever, she’d spend every second with the man in front of her. But there never seems to be enough time, especially lately. Their schedules were conflicting more than they weren’t and it was driving her crazy. But when they did find time, there was no doubt that he was the one she wanted to go through time with.

“Move in with me?” she asked. “You’re stuff is here, but you aren’t,” she rambled until Jughead’s pressed his lips to her firmly, probably to shut her up.


	14. Chapter 14

** _day xiv : a song youd love to be played at your wedding - Stand By Me - Ben E. King_ **

Jughead hated going to weddings. He didn’t really believe weddings and marriage was something he could ever want. Everyone he’d ever known who had gotten married, had been divorced and he just wasn’t sure he believed that anyone could ever be _ happily _married.

Well, that was until he had Betty by his side. 

When he got invited to his coworker’s wedding, he immediately wanted to say no. That was until he saw the look of joy on Betty’s face when she saw the invitation sticking out of the pile of mail on the kitchen counter.

“Jug! What is this doing with the junk mail?” Betty asked him as she was straightening the mess.

“It must have been a mix up,” he lied.

“Who is Trev Brown?”

“My officemate at the magazine,” he said.

He watched as she read over the invitation and spied the RSVP card and envelope. Jughead could see the smile on her face.

“It’s at the New York Public Library. I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” she said turning over the invitation. “Jug, the response has to be in by the end of the week. You can’t just ignore this.”

They’d never talked about marriage. She didn’t know how viscerally it terrified him. He always hoped things worked out, but they very rarely did in his experience.

“It could be a nice night out,” he said, swallowing his terror. “Do you want to go?”

He watched her look at the envelope, addressed to them both, not just Jughead. 

“Why do I feel like you don’t want to go?” Betty turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing, trying to read him, as they usually did.

He took a deep breath. “The divorce rate in the United States is high, Betty. Do you really think they have a chance to stay together?”

She placed the invitation back on the countertop and her hand found her hip.

“There are a lot of reasons people get divorced,” Betty explained. “But there are more reasons to stick it out and beat the statistics.”

“Always the optimist,” he smiled. 

\--

They went to the wedding. There was a feeling deep in his stomach, that maybe, just maybe things could work out if he had his sunshine by his side. The ceremony was beautiful - short and sweet. He could feel the love radiating from Trev and his bride.

“Dance with me?” He found himself asking Betty after dinner. 

“You don’t dance.”

“I do with you.”

He led her to the corner of the nearly-empty dance floor and spun her around before pulling her close. One hand poised at her hip, the other in hers. They swayed to the music for a bit before he dipped his head down and began to serenade her.

“_ If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall, or the mountain should crumble to the sea. I won't cry, I won't cry. No, I won't shed a tear, just as long as you stand, stand by me. _”

“Maybe we’ll make a believer out of you yet, Mr. Jones,” she smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.


	15. Chapter 15

** _day xv : a song you like that’s a cover by another artist - Happy Together - Weezer (originally by the Turtles) _ **

Betty didn’t want to wake up. She was having the most glorious dream. She snuggled closer to Jughead and tried her hardest to get back to the dream that felt so real, she could almost taste it.

A bedroom that wasn’t the one she fell asleep in. A shiny silver band on the left ring finger of her boyfriend. Tiny giggles from a cherubic babe in a high chair. The pitter-patter of four tiny paws. Her own matching silver on her finger. A smile so wide that when she woke up, her cheeks hurt.

Jughead pulled her in closer and she sighed in contentment. Maybe one day that would all come true. They were happy now, but she was convinced they’d be happy forever and build a life together that neither of them had ever imagined.


	16. Chapter 16

** _day xvi : a song that’s a classic favorite - Will You Love Me Tomorrow? - Carol King_ **

It had been a particularly grueling day at the magazine when Jughead had enough and went home early. He couldn’t concentrate. His officemate, Trev, was complaining nonstop about how his wife of only a few weeks was so different now that they were married. 

_ Called it, _ Jughead thought and he was stuck in that mentality for the rest of the day. Eventually, he called it quits, leaving an email for his boss to tell him that he wasn’t feeling well and would work the rest of the day from home and that the article he wanted was submitted into the Dropbox.

He couldn’t get Trev’s complaints out of his head. How she would barely touch him, how she nagged incessantly about him not loading the dishwasher correctly. Logically, Jughead knew that couples fight - they have their bumps in the road - but they make it through hopefully without too many scars.

When he arrived home, Betty was still at work, and he was thankful for it. He made himself a sandwich and sat at his keyboard, his fingers dragging lazily over the black and whites. He plays the first few chords of something he recognizes accidently and goes with it.

“Tonight, you’re mine. Completely,” he crooned to no one, looking to Betty’s desk with their picture on full display on top. He saw how happy they were in the snapshot; he remembers it clear as day.

They were walking through Central Park with Archie and Veronica on their way to some fancy lounge Veronica had been droning on and on about for weeks. They stopped to sit, Betty nuzzled close into him, looking at him in adorable as he smiled down at her. He can’t remember now what she’s said to make him laugh, but Veronica had snapped the photo and it was perfect.

As soon as it was taken, Veronica ushered them on their way. 

He was lost in the memory of what happened when they arrived home that night, a little tipsy, hands and mouths attached like their only lifeline. His fingers grazed the keys, still plucking out the chords.

“Is this a lasting treasure or just a moment’s pleasure? Can I believe the magic in your sighs? Will you still love me tomorrow?”

He continued to pay, repeating the words over and over until he’d convinced himself again that Betty would leave him. Its something he’d been doing a lot lately - getting stuck in his own head and past that he was ready to hurt her before she could hurt him. He was calling it self-preservation, but really it was sabotage.

He heard the floorboards creak and it pulled it from his thoughts. He looked up to see Betty standing in the doorway, leaned against the jam with a crooked smile on her face.

“Home already?” he checked his watch. “It’s early for you.”

“I was meeting with clients today in the Brooklyn office. I have a killer headache, so I left early. I’m going to go lay down,” she said as she walked closer to him and kissed him on the forehead. “And of course, I’ll still love you tomorrow, Juggie,” she smiled at him before leaving the room.

Betty’s lie down turned into a full-blown nap. By 9:00, he’d made dinner, leaving her some on the counter in case she woke up hungry, and cleaned up. After a few episodes of the documentary he was watching, he crept into their bedroom to grab his laptop to work on the article his boss wanted from him in a few days.

“Honey, the baby is awake, can you check on him?” she mumbled, rolling over to face away from him and snuggled in further to the bed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jughead makes a bonehead move.

** _day xvii : a song you’d sing a duet with someone at karaoke - Just Give Me a Reason - P!nk_ **

When Betty woke up from what was supposed to be a twenty-minute recharge, it was nearly midnight. She reached behind her, looking for Jughead, but the bed was empty. Usually, he was in bed by then.

She got up and went to the bathroom. When she went into the living room, she expected to find Jughead watching television. But he wasn’t there. She checked their office, but it was empty. She stood in the hallway, confused, listening to any sign that he was in the apartment, but all she heard was the whirr of the ceiling fan overhead. 

Her eyebrows knitted together as she ran for her phone, dialing Archie.

“Hro,” he said, his voice shrouded in sleep.

“Hey. Archie, sorry to call so late, but by any chance are you with Jug?”

“No. I’m with my pillow. In bed. Like you should be.”

The line went dead and she stared at the blank screen, blinking rapidly. She opened her contacts and messaged Jughead.  _ Jug? Where are you? Are you alright? _

They were frantic, and she was sure it was nothing. Maybe he ran out to the corner store for a snack. She looked into the kitchen and saw a covered plate on the counter and the dishrack filled. She put away the dishes, but didn’t touch the plate of food.

She paced the apartment for a half hour, racking her brain over where he could have gone and why he wasn’t back yet. She checked her phone obsessively, throwing it to the other end of the couch when it was still radio silent. 

She changed into her pajamas, after having slept in her work clothes for far longer than intended. If she was going to be worried and scared out of her mind for his safety, she was least going to be comfortable doing it.

Betty stared at the clock on the wall as the second hand moved laps around the others. Just as the minute hand clicked to 2:04, she heard the rattle of keys behind the door.  _ Shhh _ , she hears following right after it. She turns to look at the door just as it swings open, hitting the wall with a bang. She watched as he closed it as gently as he could. He stumbled backward, trying his hardest to pull his coat off, but the coat was most definitely winning the battle.

“Jug,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes, happy he was home and safe. When she got closer to him, she can smell the vodka seeping from his pores. “Where have you been?”

“Wyrm,” he said as if he was bothered by the question to begin with.

He finally got his coat off and draped it over the chair in the dining room. He was stumbling into everything, knocking the furniture from its place.

“You’re drunk. On a Wednesday night. We have work tomorrow, what were you thinking?” she asked, getting slowly more angry with each sway of his unsteady body.

“That I needed some air. The apartment was feeling a little small,” he slurred, kicking off his shoes.

“What does that even mean?” Betty crossed her arms over her chest, gripping at her sides. 

She’d only ever seen him drunk like this a handful of times in their relationship, but it was never good.

“You don’t get it!” he said, throwing his arms out to the side. 

“What don’t I get? Come sit down, let’s talk about--”

“You’re not getting it, Betty!” he was nearly hysterical and she had no idea why or what set him over the edge. “It’s not going to be this picture perfect snapshot. It’s going to be nagging and screaming and fighting and you’re gonna leave!”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They’ve had this chat before. The one that had Jughead ranting and raving about how marriage is a trap and how everyone is doomed and that she was going to up and leave him when a better option rolled around.

“Not this again,” she muttered under her breath. Now she was pissed. “You know what? If you want to fight so badly, fine. Sleep on the fucking couch until you get your head out of your ass.”

Betty stormed off, slamming their bedroom door behind her. She crawled into bed, but it felt wrong to be there that late without him. The empty sheets were cold and mocking as she lay there, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down her temples.


	18. Chapter 18

** _day xviii : a song from the year you were born - Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode _ **

He was awake when she was slamming her stuff around getting ready for work in the morning. He was awake when he heard her scoff while pouring her coffee into her seldom used travel mug. That meant it was early, earlier than her usual seven-thirty departure. He was pretty sure she made it a point to slam every cabinet door, being as loud as humanly possible to wake him up. It definitely intensified his headache, but he laid there quiet. He didn’t want to get into it before she left for work. He knew Thursdays were tough for her.

With the slam of the front door, Jughead sat up off the couch and groaned as his vertebrae popped in protest. He’d only ever napped on the couch with Betty, never had a full night's sleep on it and it was definitely not comfortable. He yawned, stretching his arms eventually getting up from the couch.

He showered the remnants of the previous night off of his skin and brushed his teeth to rid himself of the vile taste of vodka still lingering from his overindulgence. His head was still pounding, but when he searched for the ibuprofen, it was not in its usual spot. She’d probably hidden it from him to prove a point.

Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot she’d left on for him. Even if she was mad, at least she didn’t hate him. She could have dumped the entire pot and hidden the coffee out of spite, but she didn’t. He’d take the small victory.

He flicked on the television, trying to distract himself until it was a reasonable enough hour. He waited until ten to text Archie. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but Archie has become something akin to a best friend to him.

_ Jug: You off today? _

_Archie: I will be at one. No work today for you?_ _Jug: Called out. Video games after work?_

_ Archie: See you later. _

He had two hours to kill before Archie arrived. He clicked off the TV, the light and the sound worsening his headache. He definitely should not have had that much to drink last night. He knew he needed to be careful drinking at all. Addiction was a slippery slope. He thought about making himself breakfast, but his appetite was gone as the bits and pieces of last night came to the forefront of his mind.

_ Jesus, _ he thought to himself.  _ Again with this.  _ He needed to face his fear of marriage head on. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Betty, wanted to give her the world, but to have proof now that she wanted it too, was terrifying.

He still had no idea what she was dreaming about, but  _ the baby _ . Was it even him in the dream with her? Was it their baby? Maybe it was someone else’s. He wouldn’t have the answers until he talked to her about it, but that would mean facing something head-on like an adult, and he wasn’t sure he was equip for that.

Archie let himself into the apartment and plopped himself on the couch next to Jughead. They sat in silence for a while before the silence became unsettling.

“You wanna tell me why Betty called me at midnight last night asking if I was with you?”

“No, not really.”

“Too bad,” Archie said, crossing his ankle to his knee. “She woke me up, its officially my business. What is going on? You’ve been weird since that wedding you went to a few months back.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, throwing his head back in defeat. There was no use in lying anymore. “I’m having an existential crisis.”

“What do you not love her anymore or something?” Archie asked turning to face him.

Jughead’s eyes widened. Not love her? He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love her. But that didn’t mean that the overwhelming feeling of love didn’t absolutely scare the piss out of him. He was pretty sure, no matter what happened, he would always love Betty Cooper.

“God no, nothing like that,” he stammered out, still taken aback by Archie’s assessment. “How could I not love her?”

“So….” Archie prompted.

“She came home from work yesterday, but wasn’t feeling well, so she took a nap. When I went in, she was talking in her sleep. She was saying something about how the baby was crying and she wanted to check on him. What does that even mean?”

“It sounds like she was having a pretty great dream to me,” Archie said. “Isn’t it a good thing that she’s dreaming of a future with you?”

“How do you know it’s with me?”

“Who else would it be with?”

“I went to the bar, drank about a fifth of vodka and stumbled home. She was awake and worried about me and I yelled at her. She’s seriously pissed at me. But I can’t say I don’t deserve it. I went looking for a fight that should never have happened.”

“You have a really bad habit of running away from her,” Archie said rubbing the back of his neck. “Y’know, for someone so afraid of being left, you sure do a lot of leaving.”

Jughead stood up and paced the living room running his fingers through his hair like somehow it would give him all of the answers he’s been looking for. Archie’s words hit him like a freight train. He was right. Jughead guessed, in his own warped sense of mind, that leaving was better than getting left, but he never once stopped to think about how this was affecting Betty. And that was his biggest mistake.

“Think she’ll forgive me again?”

“Have you met her?” Archie said, offering a half-smile of reassurance. He stood up and clapped his hand on Jughead’s shoulder, bringing him in for a hug. “It’ll be okay, man.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jughead said, patting Archie’s back.

They talked a little more before Archie decided he’d rather not be there for when Betty got home from work. Jughead busied himself, making sure the house was straightened up. He even went so far as to make dinner for them.

She was two hours late when she walked in the door. It was 7:30, and normally, if she was going to be late, he’d get an apologetic text or phone call, but not this time. He deserved the freeze out and he knew that he did. She dropped her keys and kicked off her shoes, throwing her bag on the dining room table. 

When she looked up, Jughead was standing there, wringing his hands in front of his stomach.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jughead faces his issues.

** _day xix : a song that makes you think about life - I Won’t Give Up - Jason Mraz_ **

Betty’s eyes narrowed. She had been thinking all day about what she was going to say to him, but now that they were face to face, everything she planned was out the window. He looked dejected, sad standing in front of her like he was nervous she was going to disappear. 

“Hey,” Betty said, with a little more edge in her voice than she intended.

“I made dinner,” he said by way of response. “Your favorite.”

She could smell it as soon as she opened the door. 

“Thank you. I got held up on a motion that is due first thing in the morning, so I wanted to get it done. I know I didn’t call.” 

“I didn’t deserve a call,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I know I’ve been a major ass the last few weeks.”

“You have,” she agreed, matching his step. She watched his shoulder slump in defeat.

“I owe you an apology. Or twenty apologies,” he reached out for her hand and her stomach was doing backflips. “I know it’s easier just to blame everything on my parents, but I know that’s bullshit. It’s my own fear and my own self-doubt and I should never have projected that onto you. I’m  _ sorry _ ,” he emphasized and she could feel it deep in the marrow of her bones.

“You know it’s going to take a lot more than dinner and fluffing a few pillows to forgive you, right?” Betty asked, her arms crossed.

“I know,” he sighed. “But it’s a start, right?”

Yes, it was a start, there shouldn’t have been a start to begin with. She knew the idea of marriage didn’t sit well with Jughead. They’d talked about it countless times since his coworker’s wedding. But it didn’t give him the right to be a jackass. 

“You don’t feel like I’m pushing you into something you’re not ready for, do you?”

“God, no!” he insisted. “Let me explain.”

And he did. She had no recollection of talking in her sleep, but now that he said it, the dream came back into full view. She’d been having them more frequently lately, but they were just dreams.

“And that gives you the right to scare me half to death? You have no idea how worried I was, Jughead. What if something had happened?”

“I know and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left, but I can’t change that now. I know I have a lot of things to sort out, but it isn’t fair that I keep lashing out at you. I know I can do better. You deserve better than my bullshit.”

She reached out her hand to him, hoping he’d take her peace offering. She didn’t want to be mad at him. She hated being mad at him. 

“Jug, it was a dream. Is it so bad that I’m dreaming about you and me and kids and a future? I’m not saying it has to happen tomorrow, but eventually at some point down the road, maybe it could be something we’re ready for. When are you going to realize that I’m not going anywhere. Barring some kind of disaster, I’m here. With you,” she urged, lacing their fingers together.

“Why are you so good to me? I’ve run out on you twice, which is ironic, but that isn’t the point.”

“Because I love you. And I believe in you. And I believe in us,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug, listening to the sound of his heart beat against his ribcage steadily and it sounded like home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback to what Jug was thinking when he ran out on Betty, before he came home drunk.

** _day xx : a song that has many meanings to you - 21 Guns - Green Day_ **

_ “Honey, the baby is awake, can you check on him?” she mumbled, rolling over to face away from him and snuggled in further to the bed. _

_ Jughead’s eyes widened. What baby? Him? Every nerve ending in his body was firing on all cylinders, his thoughts racing through his brain in droves. Without thinking, he slipped on his boots, grabbed his jacket and bolted out the front door. _

_ He walked the streets around their apartment for an hour before he landed himself in the familiar old barstool at their favorite bar - the one they’d met in - the one he’d been playing at for years before he met Betty. _

_ His hands pulled through his inky locks, elbows propped on the bartop. _

_ “Usual, Jones?” the bartender asked. _

_ “Make it a double,” Jughead said without thinking. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking. He knew addiction ran rampant in his bloodline, but right now, he wanted to drown out all of the voices in his head. _

_ The bartender set his double-vodka soda on top of a cocktail napkin. _

_ “Want to talk about it?” he asked. _

_ “Not particularly,” Jughead said, downing the contents of his drink in three gulps. “Another, please.” _

_ He could feel the burn in his throat, sinking and being swallowed by the growing pit in his stomach.  _

_ The logical voice in his head asked why it was such a bad thing that she was dreaming of him, but the irrational voice, the more prominent, louder voice kept telling him to run, drown out the logic with more vodka, nothing good could ever come of positivity.  _

_ You’re such as asshole, he thought to himself. How could you hurt someone like Betty? What the actual fuck is wrong with you? She is worth fighting for! He groaned, downing his second drink as quickly as the first.  _

_ He knew nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, hiding from his feelings and from Betty, but instinct took over - his feet dragged him to the bar and there he was. It was too late now anyway, he figured. He was already there are two drinks in. He signalled the bartender for another drink and turned around, facing the people around him. _

_ He watched as they interacted, how easy it all seemed to be for them to pour their love to their partners or flirt with strangers. His mind drifted to Betty - how easy it was to love her, how wonderfully she’d always treated him, despite what she knew about his checkered past. She was sunshine personified and he knew that anyone would be lucky to even have her as a friend in their life, let alone get to love her in all the ways he gets to. _

_ He bangs his head against the countertop, trying to rattle his common sense back to the forefront, but it was useless. The bartender puts another drink in front of him. This one he nurses - buying his time until he has to swallow his pride.  _

_ Eventually, he stumbled back home, taking the long way and stopping for a slice of pizza on the way in hopes of maybe sobering up before he slipped into bed with Betty to forget this night ever happened. _

_ The door cracked open louder than he wanted it to, and he almost didn’t notice Betty in the living room until she spoke so softly it unnerved him. _

_ “Jug? Where have you been?” _

_ _


	21. Chapter 21

**_day xxi : a song you like with a person’s name in the title - Summer is a Curse - The Faim_** **_* a few months later *_**

It had been months since Jughead’s freak out and things were better, just as he said they would be. He talked about his feelings with Betty, had open discussions when things were weighing on his mind. It was back to how it was in the beginning - fun and light without expectation or future implications. She knew he’d get there when he was ready to. She never doubted his love or devotion to her, it was something she often leaned on for comfort when life got overwhelming. 

He’d been working on his music more seriously, cranking out songs and testing melodies on her as she worked late nights in their shared office. He was getting better and she could not be more proud of him. She loved watching him play, even at home when there wasn’t an audience. It was just them and it was perfect. 

They’d discussed Jughead cutting his hours at the magazine, but he was nervous. He didn’t want the burden of bills and life to fall strictly on Betty’s shoulders. And they wouldn’t, she’d told him. He would contribute what he could, go out and get new gigs that weren’t open mic night, try to make a name for himself in the big bad music world and no matter where he ended up, she’d be there to support him.

She was daydreaming at her desk, case files stacked on the corner waiting to be picked up when a chime from her phone broke her reverie.

_ Jug: I need my muse. Today has been uninspired. _

That was the caption accompanying a photo of crumpled pages of paper lined with handwritten notes and scribbled out lyrics. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head slightly.

_ Betty: I’ll be home in an hour. Why don’t you start dinner and I’ll finish it when I get home. _

She looked at the photo of Jughead on her desk, the photo of a rare, genuine smile on both of their faces at the peak of their rough patch. Her smile widened thinking about the progression of their relationship. She had no idea what the future was going to look like, but she was sure it would be fine as long as she had Jughead by her side through whatever it threw at her. 

She looked back down at her phone, still smiling, when she heard a knock as her door.

“I just came to pick up the case files,” Adam, the new associate attorney at her office, said.

“Right, yes,” she said, backing out of her text with Jughead, leaving her wallpaper - a photo they’d taken together the week before on a visit to Riverdale - on display.

She reached for the case files, her hands colliding with Adam’s. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful smile?” he said, laying on the charm thick.

Betty decided it best to ignore the comment, pulling her hand back from his, her eyes rolling. When he didn’t seem to take the hint, she glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could return home. When she looked back up, he was still standing there, staring at her like he was expecting something in return for his compliment.

“So,” Adam began. “I was wondering if you’d want to get a drink sometime.”

_ Well that was blunt, _ Betty thought. She’d barely spoken to this guy and she definitely never given him the idea that she was emotionally available for ‘a drink sometime’ or anything else. 

“No, thank you,” Betty said, politely. She eyed her photo of Jughead again and smiled.

“Oh,” he said, eyeballing the photo on her phone, rolling his eyes. "Still with that guy, I see."

"Yes, I'm still with Jughead."

"Well, when you're sick of him, I'll be ready and waiting on that drink," he winked and Betty felt her stomach protest.

_ Don’t hold your breath,  _ she thought. The urge to vomit was real. This guy was disgusting and everything wrong with men. She watched as he sauntered away before packing up for the day and leaving the office, checking over her to make sure Adam didn't follow her out.

When she got home, she kicked off her shoes and immediately went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. She was greeted by Jughead cooking dinner, pulling plates from the cabinet.

She pulled down a glass and uncorked the bottle of red on the counter. She looked between the glass and the bottle before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"Bad day?" Jughead asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling into her neck. 

"Bad last half hour. The new attorney is a pig," she said taking another swig before turning in his arms and planting a kiss to his lips. "Thank you for not being like other men. It's one of the many reasons I love you."


	22. Chapter 22

** _day xxii : a song that moves you forward - Trebles Final - Bright Lights Bigger City/Magic - Pitch Perfect Original Motion Picture Soundtrack _ **

It had been a string of bad days at the office when Jughead was so fed up with everything, he wanted to quit. His passion for writing puff pieces for a seldom read magazine was waning exponentially. All he wanted to do was sit behind his keyboard and write anything that meant something.

When he came home, Betty was already in the kitchen making dinner.

“Hey, honey. How was work today?” Betty asked.

“I almost quit four times before ten this morning,” he said throwing his messenger bag on the dining room table. “I don’t know how much more I can take of his.”

He walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her and kissed Betty’s temple.

“I know you haven’t been happy there in a while. Did you ever think about leaving and making a go at music full-time?”

“I couldn’t do that. Music doesn’t pay the bills. I’m not going to let you cover everything on your own. That’s not fair.”

He honestly had never thought about making music his full-time career. He knew it wasn’t realistic, or fair to Betty, but now that she’d suggested it, it sounded like a wonderful thing. It would do wonders for his mental health leaving that office and the idea was more appealing than he was willing to show her. 

“Jug, I did it before you moved in. And I just got that promotion at work, so we’ll be okay. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t support you in your dream?”

“Yeah, but--”

“No buts, mister. If this is something you want to explore, I support you.”

_ So this is what unwavering support and unconditional love feels like _ , he thought. He pulled her tight into his chest before letting her go. He turned her around, lifted her up onto the countertop and kissed her like he never had before. It was a  _ thank you for loving me _ kiss - a  _ why are you so good to me _ kiss - a  _ I am so goddamn thankful for you _ kind of kiss which quickly turned into a  _ I want to take you to the bedroom and fuck your brains out  _ kiss. 

“I love you,” he said between nips at her neck and grips at her waist.

“I know,” she teased.

\--

The next day, Jughead went into work and talked to his boss, telling him he’d finish out his assignments, but after that, he was done, but if they needed a freelance writer, he wouldn’t mind the occasional article. 

His heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. There was finally a light at the end of the dead-end magazine tunnel and he had Betty to thank for even putting the idea in his head. Taking the leap from semi-stable writer to complete chaos was a jump, but he wanted it and he was going to make it work.

A few weeks later, Veronica and Archie were over for dinner when she slipped an opportunity into the conversation that had his jaw on the floor.

“So, I spoke to a friend over at La Bonne Nuit,” she said between sips of wine. “They’re looking for someone to fill in a set tomorrow night. Their headliner cancelled and asked if I knew anyone who could possibly fill in on such short notice. Know anyone who might be interested?” she smirked.

Jughead stared at her in shock, blinking rapidly, turning over the idea of headlining his first show so soon in his mind. He sputtering, trying to find the words and he heard Betty giggle next to him.

“I think that means he’s interested,” she said.

“Very interested. But, isn’t that place super fancy? I don’t know if I’m the right fit for them.”

“Au contraire, my dark and broody buddy,” Veronica smiled. “I gave them your demo and they love your sound. Play your classics and you’ll be a hit. And, if it goes well, I have it on good authority that they’d ask you back.”

“Veronica. This is incredible,” he said, at a loss for any other words.

“So I guess we’re going to La Bonne Nuit tomorrow night,” Betty said, clinking her glass with Veronica’s with a proud smile on her face.


	23. Chapter 23

** _day xxiii : a song you think everyone should listen to - Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry_ **

Jughead had been playing gigs at La Bonne Nuit for months with increasing success each time. He’d gotten gigs all around the city, playing almost every weekend across the five boroughs. But, somehow, Betty was surprised when Jughead came home from a gig in Manhattan on a Friday night and woke her up like an excited child on Christmas morning.

“Betty, baby, wake up,” she vaguely heard.

“What timesit?” she asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Two, but it can’t wait.” Her eyes open, still bleary from sleep, when they finally focus on Jughead’s bright smile.

She smiled to herself, trying to clear the fog from her sleepy brain.

“Are you okay?” she asked, still a little confused that something couldn’t wait a few hours until morning. 

“I’m amazing,” he said, and she starts to sit up, rubbing at her eyes to wake herself up.

“Tonight went well?”

“So well that the band I played before asked me to open for them on a mini-tour their going on.”

Betty sprang out of bed, eyes wide.

“That is amazing, Juggie! I told you something big was going to happen soon.”

“Well yeah, but you have to say that.”

Betty rolled her eyes and nudged him playfully.

“So, are you just going to leave me hanging or give me actual details?”

“It’s a small tour. Five venues in seven days. Philadelphia, Baltimore, somewhere in Virginia and two other places I can’t remember. They leave in two weeks from Sunday. But I told Jake that I needed time to think and talk to you and I’d get back to him.”

That certainly was a lot of information for two in the morning, but Betty’s heart was bursting with pride. She knew he was going to do well in music, she just needed him to see that, too. She was incredibly happy that he finally was. 

“You can’t pass up this opportunity, Jug. You  _ have to _ go.”

“But I’d leave on our anniversary,” he gently reminded her.

She hadn’t put two and two together fast enough to realize that their two year anniversary was when he’d be leaving. Did it suck, sure, but would they have more, absolutely. 

“We’ll have more,” she smiled softly. “Baby, this is an amazing chance for you to finally venture out. What kind of person would I be if I told you you couldn’t. This is your career. You need to do what’s going to help you. I’ll be here when you get back, patiently waiting.”

\--

The day before Jughead was set to leave, he’d cancelled his gig so he could stay home to pack. Betty was happy to have the entire day with him. He’d woken her up that morning with the most glorious morning sex - gentle and slow. It was like he was savoring it, like they’d be apart for months, when in reality it was only a week. She certainly wasn’t going to complain.

While she was in the shower, he’d run out to get her a latte from her favorite little coffee shop downtown. The morning was spent packing his things - thankfully it didn’t take too long. They would have been done sooner if Jughead hadn’t insisted on kissing her every few minutes. 

He somehow planned a romantic candlelight dinner, between errands and packing and kisses. He pulled their curtains closed and they spent their dinner by firelight, savoring their meals, and their time together. She could tell he was struggling with the idea of leaving. It was so far out of his comfort zone - hers too if she was really thinking about it. It would be the first time they’d spent any real time apart since they started dating, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to cope with it.

_ Get used to it,  _ she thought to herself.  _ When he makes it, this will be a regular thing. _

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” Jughead asked, filling their wine glasses again.

“I can’t miss that much work on such short notice. Besides, Gerard is out and Mr. Mantle put me in charge while he is. You know I’d much rather be with you than stuck in that office.”

Betty cleaned up their dishes from the table and for once didn’t do them immediately. She let them sit in the sink. Jughead followed her in with the few she couldn’t carry, leaning around her to put them in the sink and trapping her against the ledge. 

His lips were at her neck, trailing the softest kisses across her skin. “I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbled against her skin.

Betty leaned her head back against his shoulder and revelled in his lips against her, humming in appreciation. Her hands made their way into his hair, holding him against her. The nip at the bridge of her neck had a soft sigh escaping her lips and her hips rolling back into his.

She managed to turn in his arms, pressing her lips into his with conviction. She nipped at his bottom lip and his groan went straight to her core. She pulled away hesitantly and cocked her eyebrows up, slowing walking toward the bedroom.

They ended their night the same was it began - filled with love and hands and tongues and bliss. 

Betty snuggled close into Jughead’s side, clinging to him for dear life. She knew in less than twelve hours he’d be gone, off to see new places she wished she could see with him.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” she said, pressing kisses into his chest. “I already can’t wait until you come home.”


	24. Chapter 24

** _day xxiv : a song by a band you wish were still around - Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac_ **

By the second day of the tour, Jughead was miserable without Betty by his side. He missed her more than he thought he was going to. He knew he was going to, but he didn’t think it would be as intense as it was. He called her every morning and after his sets to tell her how it went. But when he went to sleep at night, alone in a shitty motel bed, he missed her soft touches and the sound of her steady breathing beside him.

He missed how she’d somehow always find him while she was sleeping - how she reached out for him lazily for thing in the morning. Her messy blonde hair across his chest and the bright green of her eyes in the early morning sun as it streamed in through the windows. 

Day three, he was tired. He hadn’t slept well, hadn’t had a decent cup of coffee or touched his girlfriend.  _ Maybe touring isn’t for me _ , Jughead said to himself as he took the stage for a new set of strangers. 

“Hey, I’m Jughead Jones. Thanks for having me,” he said as he aimlessly stroked the keys of his trusty keyboard. He stood up and took a bow and thanked the crowd again. The applause startled him. 

The Baltimore crowd seemed to have liked him the best so far and that was an extreme boost in confidence. He was standing at the bar, waiting for his glass of water when a young woman approached him.

“Excuse me,” said a nervous voice next to him.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, stepping to the side, opening a spot at the bar for the woman.

“No,” she insisted. “I was just wondering if I could get a picture with you. I really enjoyed your set. I was at the Philadelphia show, too. I liked it so much I drove down here to hear it again.”

Jughead blinked at her in shock.

“Uh, sure,” he said, moving closer to her, and leaning in as she used her phone to take a selfie of them together.

“Thank you so much,” she said and she was giddy. 

He watched as she immediately opened her QuikPix account, selecting the picture they’d just taken with the caption:  _ Twice in three days. If you get the chance, go see #JugheadJones if he’s in your area. You will not regret it. @jugheadjones #concert #music #hessonice #andcute _

He blushed when he read it. The vibration in his pocket meant it was posted.

“Have a great night,” he said, grabbing his water and walking to the back alley to call Betty. The phone rang three times before she answered.

“How’d it go tonight?”

“Amazing. I think I even have my first real fan,” he heard her start to protest. “Other than you, of course. Baby, she drove from Philadelphia to Baltimore to see my set again. Then there was another one who tried hitting on me, which was weird.”

“Why was it weird?” Betty asked.

“Cause you’re the only one I want hitting on me. Not that you were worried, but I told her I had a girl that I was  _ madly _ in love with,” he said dramatically. 

“I’m sure she loved that,” Betty laughed. 

_ It’s because I wasn’t wearing a ring _ , he wanted to say, but he didn’t. “There may have been some pouting, but,” he shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

_ Maybe if I did have a ring, it wouldn’t happen or maybe it would, but at least it’s something to keep people away.  _ He shook his head to dispel the thoughts.  _ Who even am I? _

“Don’t let it go to your head, Rockstar,” she teased.

“I don’t think you’d let me,” he laughed. “I miss you.”

“Only a few more days, babe. You’ll be alright. I’m sure you’re doing just fine without me on the road with you.”

_ No. No, I’m really not, _ he thought.  _ It would be so much better if you were here. I want to be everywhere you are. _ “Yeah, but I still miss you,” he said instead.


	25. Chapter 25

** _day xxv : a song you like by an artist no longer living - Save the Last Dance for Me - the Drifters_ **

“Remember, honey. I’ve got that training in Albany for the next few days with a few of the associates from work. I’m leaving in an hour,” Betty called from the kitchen as she fixed their morning coffee. 

“Is Adam going?” he teased.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Betty sighed, settling in on the couch next to Jughead. “I’m sure that’s going to be fun.”

“You sound so excited,” Jughead laughed, sipping his coffee. “Are you finally gonna take him up on that drink?”

“Eww. No,” she cringed at the thought of having to spend any one-on-one time with Adam.

He’d been mercilessly flirting with her, despite her expressed disinterest. She had no doubt in her mind that he was going to try something while they were away at the Bail Reforms and Speedy Trial Reform seminar. She had a plan to stick with one of the older associates, Gerard, so she’d never have to be alone with him.

“Don’t laugh, Jug,” she pouted. “You can always come with me,” she said in a sing-song voice, knowing full-well that he couldn’t.

“I’m in Asbury Park Wednesday and back at La Bonne Nuit the night you get home. Sorry, baby,” he said kissing her cheek.

She grumbled to herself as she chugged her coffee. Her phone rattled against the coffee table. She picked up and sighed, reading the message.

“They’re running early. I’ve got about fifteen minutes.”

“I can do a lot in fifteen minutes,” Jughead teased her.

“Mmmm. As wonderful as that sounds, we both know you haven’t been quick lately. Not that I’m complaining,  _ at all _ ,” Betty blushed. 

Jughead tipped her head towards him and captured her lips in a sensual kiss. The gentle push-pull had her lost for a minute. She pulled back, even though she definitely would rather stay home with him than having to spend a few days around stuffy attorneys and her douchebag coworker.

“Nice try,” she smiled. She got off the couch and headed to their bedroom, pulling her small carry-on suitcase on her way to the door. “Walk me out?”

“Do I get to make Adam jealous by kissing you senseless on the sidewalk?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Remember, try not to give in to his debonair douchebaggery. You’re gonna come home to me,” he kissed her possessively. “I love you, be careful, call me when you get there.”

She heard Adam grumbling the entire first hour of their trip upstate.

\--

The seminar was three days of torture. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. Dry, legislation lectures, uncomfortable chairs and even more uncomfortable beds at the hotel that Mr. Mantle’s new secretary booked. The entire town was gray. The only beautiful thing in her day was talking to Jughead, especially after Adam decided to step up his game.

_ Betty was sitting at the bar, waiting for her whiskey neat when he sat himself next to her. She rolled her eyes so hard, she was convinced they’d pop out of her head.  _

_ “So, I guess we’re finally having that drink,” he said, trying to be charming. _

_ “No. I’m having a drink and then I’m going to bed,” she turned to the bartender who placed her drink in front of her with a smile. “Thank you.” _

_ “Is that an invitation?” He leaned in closer to her. _

_ “Absolutely not.” _

Betty had told Gerard all about his behavior since he started at the firm and politely requested he get transferred to another office, or fired for sexual harassment. He promised her he’d talk to the partners about it. 

When she called Jughead the night before she was due to come home, he had insisted that she get dropped off at the bar. When she protested, because she’d want to shower and change, he said to go to Veronica’s.

She was slightly suspicious, but he was right. Veronica did live closer to La Bonne Nuit, it would be more convenient  _ and _ she could borrow something sexy to wear. That sounded like a good enough plan. 


	26. Chapter 26

** _day xxvi : a song that makes you want to fall in love - the one - kodaline_ **

He’d had everything planned out perfectly. Sure he had to lie a little to Betty to get to that point, but he didn’t want anything to ruin the surprise he had for her. With Veronica’s help, their apartment was transformed into a romantic haven with twinkle lights and tulle. 

He told Betty to go to Veronica’s knowing she couldn’t resist her oversized tub and rain shower. He  _ also _ knew that she’d have nothing to wear for a night out, so she’d have to borrow something, and with Veronica’s helping hand, it was bound to be extraordinary. 

After triple checking everything, he left for La Bonne Nuit, nervous for a gig for the first time since he could remember. He was backstage with Archie, thankful he was there, too.

“It’s gonna go great, dude,” Archie said, clapping his shoulder. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jughead still wasn’t so sure. It was the first song he’d ever really written on his own and he was nervous to play something that wasn’t a cover for the following he’d been accumulating.  _ It’s the dream _ , he reminded himself.  _ Singer/Songwriter Jughead Jones _ . 

He took a few deep breaths before heading to the bar to grab a drink to calm his frazzled nerves. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t even notice someone saddle up next to him until he felt the brush of skin against him. His immediate thought was to step away, then look, but when he looked left, he was met with his favorite shade of green, rimmed with black and coated in soft pink shadow.

His eyes travelled down, taking in her hair, down in soft waves and the slinky black dress clinging to her curves, revealing her long, toned legs that he loved so much. Seeing her there soothed his racing heart. 

“Hello, my love,” Betty said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

He pulled her in close and buried his hand in her hair as he tipped her jaw up to kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks. 

“Hi,” he sighed. “I’m happy you’re home.”

“Me, too.”

They stayed close, just as they were, until the bartender placed his drink on the bar.

“I better get back there. I start soon. There’s a table reserved for you and Veronica in the front. So, grab a drink and take a seat. I’ll see you after,” he said kissing her again. 

_ That might be the last time you kiss her as your girlfriend _ , a little voice said in the back of his head, and he couldn’t stop the smile that sprang to his lips. 

From backstage, he could see the tables filling up - but he didn’t take his spot on stage until Betty and Veronica were nestled at their hightop. He took the stage, sleeves rolled up, feeling like he was ready to take on the world. He sat at his keyboard and adjusted the microphone, looking over to Betty and winked. 

Her smile could light up any room and his heart started to race in his chest again.

“Hey, everyone,” he said, adjusting the microphone again. “Thanks for coming out. I’ve got a few for you today.”

He planned this setlist meticulously. The song that brought them together to begin with. His favorite classic and hers. Ending with his new piece. With applause after each song, it was getting closer to the time.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You guys aren’t gonna know this one. I’ve been working on it for a while now, and it’s finally ready. Would that be alright if I played you an original?”

He wasn’t even sure why he asked. But the cheering and uproar was overwhelming and he had to laugh. The loudest of them all, his beautiful girl, Betty Cooper with a huge smile on her face, pride radiating off of her he was sure everyone in the room could feel it. He certainly could.

He looked over at her as the crowd settled down.  _ I love you _ , he mouthed to her and his heart soared when she did it back. His fingers hovered over the keys as his heart picked up it’s pace as the countdown finally clicked to zero.

“ _ Tell me. Tell me that you want me. And I’ll be yours completely, for better or for worse _ ,” he sang and his eyes never left Betty.

She was listening intently, probably expecting it to be one of the other’s he’d been working on, one of the ones he’d pluck out while she was working on motions and depositions, but this one was special. This one she’d never heard an inkling of to keep the full effect of the surprise.

“ _ When we are together you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable. You know, I never ever believed in love. I believed one day you were gonna come along and free me. 'Cause you make my heart feel like it's summer, when the rain is pouring down. You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong. That's why I know you are the one _ ,” he finished, repeating the last line a few times. 

He could see Betty blinking back tears and when he glanced at Veronica, she was dabbing her eyes with a napkin. The crowd around him fell away and all he could see was the blush on Betty’s cheek, the gleam in her eye and the love pouring out of her as she sat stunned into silence. 

“Thank you,” he said, exiting the stage where Archie was waiting with open arms. 

Neither said anything, just smiled wide and embraced each other. When Jughead finally felt like he could catch his breath, after collecting his pay and making sure everything was in order as planned, he waded out into the crowd to find Betty.

When he did find her, he slipped one arm around her waist from behind and pulled her close, moving her hair to the side, gently kissing her neck. Her hand was on his, gripping at his fingers and a small sigh fell from her lips.

_ Home. _

“What do you say we get out of here,” he suggested against her skin. 

She nodded and pulled away from him, lacing her fingers through his as he lead them out of the bar. They made the familiar walk home in silence. He was nervous - she still hadn’t said a word after his performance. She wasn’t upset with him, that much he could tell, because if she was, she wouldn’t be leaning into his side, her head against his shoulder.

He could hear her breathing, like she was trying to steady herself. He kissed her forehead. When they were a block from their apartment, she finally pulled her head from his shoulder.

“You were really great tonight,” she said and her voice was lighter than usual, almost tentative. “I didn’t know you were working on that song.”

“That was the point,” he laughed. “I wrote it for you.”

“I can, with total confidence, say that no one has ever done that for me before,” she chuckled. “It was beautiful. Thank you,” she smiled up at him.

“I tried,” he shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but he was incredibly thankful that she liked it. It had been wracking his nerves since he got the idea in his head.

That was the extent of the conversation until they got to the apartment. He let them in carefully, trying to shield his preparations from her view until they were fully inside. 

When she turned around, her eyes widened. He watched her look around at the fairy lights and romantic decor, a small bouquet of flowers in a glass vase on the coffee table next to a small box. He knew the moment she saw it; her gasp was hardly missable.

“Jug, what is all this?”

He pulled her to the couch, settling next to her as she sat, eyes still trained on the small box next to the flowers.

“Do you remember when I went on that first tour with Jake? I told you about that woman who hit on me.” She nodded. “I think,” he breathed, “she was the last straw for me.”

“I don’t understand,” Betty said, finally looking to Jughead, head cocked to the side.

His heart was hammering so hard against his chest, he was sure she could hear it. His thoughts were swirling around and he tried to focus on the speech he had planned. 

“I know I haven’t been the easiest person to love. I know that I’ve made things way harder than necessary the last few years,” He leaned forward to capture the box and his thumb swipes back and forth against the velvet.  _ It’s calming, _ he thinks.

“You’re not hard to love, Jug,” Betty insisted, cupping his cheek and pulling him back into the conversation.

“You are everything that is good in my life. You’ve changed the way I think about life and about people. Without you, I never would have taken a chance on myself. I am so incredibly grateful that Veronica dragged you to open mic and subsequently making you cry.”

A small burst of air escaped Betty’s lips in a laugh.

“And I know it’s taken me far too long, but Elizabeth Cooper, will you make me the luckiest and happiest man on the planet and marry me?”

Her eyes snapped to his and he could see the tears welling. She bit her bottom lip, seeming to mull over his question, but her silence was unsettling. Maybe he missed the mark. Maybe this isn’t something she wanted and he’d built it all up for nothing.

“You don’t believe in marriage,” she whispered.

“I didn’t. Until I was away from you and all I wanted was to be home with you. To spend the rest of my life holding your hand, and walking together, facing everything head-on...together.”

She sat there silent again. There was a nagging voice in the back of his head, but he silenced it, convincing himself that she was just taken by surprise - that she didn’t expect this from him - that it was the ultimate surprise. He understood - he never thought they’d be in this scene either.

“Ask me again,” she said, leaning in closer, brushing her nose against his.

“Betty Cooper, will you marry me?” he whispered, his breath fanning her face.

He heard the smile in her voice when she whispered her answer  _ yes _ and the kiss he placed on her lips was so tender, he felt his own tears stream down his cheeks.

He fumbled to unhinge the box, dripped the small white gold band in his hand. He took her left hand from his cheek and carefully slipped the small diamond on her finger with shaking hands. It wasn’t much, but with Veronica’s help he found something small and delicate, just like his beloved.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: death; grief

** _day xxvii : a song that breaks your heart - There You’ll Be - Faith Hill_ **

A few days after the engagement was the anniversary of Polly’s death. Every year, Betty would drive to Riverdale to sit at the cemetery with a bouquet of fresh flowers. She’d had an extraordinarily difficult week at work on top of missing her sister more than she has in years. 

When the morning of Polly’s anniversary came, Betty woke up early, not bothering to wake Jughead - who’d gotten in late from a gig - and drove to Riverdale. She stopped at Pop’s, enjoying breakfast alone in the back booth, away from the families and couples out for their morning meal.

The morning was crisp and cool, but she decided to walk to see Polly. She walked passed the house that built her, the school that taught her and gave her passion until she reached her sister’s resting place. She weaved through the headstones until she found the familiar marble.

_ Pollyanna Cooper - beloved daughter and sister _

She unpacked the blanket from the bag she brought and smoothed it out among the grass. The small bouquet of flowers was placed at the stone and Betty sat down, her heart heavy and eyes already welling with tears.

“Hey, Poll,” Betty sniffled. “It’s that time of year again.”

She was met with silence, but the wind whistled through the nearby trees and Betty chose to take that as a sign that Polly was there with her. 

“This really sucks,” she sighed. “You were my first best friend. You showed me that everything was within my reach, even the things that seemed so far away,” she sighed again. “And you’re not even here for me to talk to about this,” she grumbled.

“Why doesn’t this get any easier?” she gasped out, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I know it’s been so long, but it may as well have been yesterday.”

If she thought about it hard enough, she could swear someone or something was rubbing circles on her back, just like Polly had when she was a kid.

“I’ve told you about Jughead. Well, he proposed the other night. He wrote a beautiful song that I’m sure you would have loved. I want so badly for you to be here,” she cried.

“Do you remember when we were kids, we planned our weddings out down to the table numbers and chair covers. I can promise a lot of that has changed since I was seven, but I want to plan it with you. We were supposed to be each other’s maid of honors,” she sobbed. “But, I promised I wouldn’t put you in a puffy pink dress like I wanted,” she managed to laugh.

“I think you’d really love him,” she said, after her tears subsided some. “But I know you’ll be there with us whenever that day comes. It just feels so weird to not have you here for this. I _ need _ you here for this. Am I doing the right thing here?”

Of course, Betty knew she was doing the right thing; she could feel it in her bones that she was. She knew Jughead was it for her. She knew that somehow, Polly would be there with her every step of the way. She always had been. She could feel her there - could smell her favorite flowers when the wind blew.

She sat there in silence, sipping her coffee, listening to the wind, feeling is blow through her hair. It was eerily quiet. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, legs crossed at the base of Polly’s grave, but she was taken out of her daydreams and whispered conversation to herself by the sound of a motorcycle engine.

She didn’t think much of it, she was sure it was late enough in the day for people to be out and about living their lives and doing their errands. She heard the crunch of footsteps behind her, but she still didn’t look. It wasn’t until she saw a shadow cast across the stone that she looked to see who was behind her.

She watched as Jughead’s face melted from concern to relief. 

“What’re you doing here?” Betty asked.

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed and I may have had a mild meltdown until I called Veronica and she reminded me what today was and where you’d be,” he blurted out.

“I’m sorry, Juggie. I should have left a note. I didn’t want to wake you up. You got in so late last night.”

“It’s okay,” he said, joining her on the grass. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Polly. I’m Jughead,” he said after another minute, and a smile graced her lips when the wind whipped around them seemingly out of nowhere, the smell of gardenia filling the air. 


	28. Chapter 28

** _day xxviii : a song by an artist whose voice you love - We Don’t Have to Dance - Andy Black_ **

They’d been engaged for six months, living blissfully in their own bubble of love when Jughead received a phone call that would change the course of everything. He was home, sitting at his keyboard, playing with melodies and scratching out terrible lyrics when it chirped next to him. He was expecting it to be his usual lunchtime text from Betty, but when the phone kept chirping, he picked it up, despite not knowing the number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Jughead Jones?”

“Who may I ask is calling?”

He was confused, if it was some kind of telemarketer, they would only have his given name, not his age old nickname.

“My name is Norman Martinez, I’m calling from Republic Records.”

_ Holy fuck. Holy FUCK. Republic Records. That’s one of my favorite labels. Fuck. Okay. Chill, Jughead. _

“How can I help you?”

“We heard your set in Philadelphia a while back and have been tracking you since then. Which sounds weird, but I promise you, it definitely isn’t.”

_ I mean, it is, but okay. _

“Okay.”

“We want you to come into the office, meet some of our producers, maybe lay something down if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Jughead asked without thinking.

“Very serious,” Norman said chuckling.

The conversation continued about the particulars of when and where to show up, letting him know that he is more than welcome to bring someone with him if that made him feel a little bit more comfortable.

By the time he hung up the phone, Jughead’s heart was pounding. This was it, it was his dream - his chance to make something of himself in the music world like he always wanted - like Betty always knew he could.

He didn’t think when he grabbed his jacket off the hook and ran out the door heading to Betty’s office to tell her the good news. It couldn’t wait.

He ran from the subway station to her office, panting, trying to catch his breath as soon as he stopped in front of the giant glass doors of McCoy, Weatherbee, and Mantle. He rode the elevator up to the seventh floor and navigated the cubicles until he found her office door. It was slightly closed, but he didn’t hear anything on the other side. He knocked lightly.

“Come in,” she said, but was still chattering in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

When he pushed into the office, he closed the door behind him and he saw the smile on her lips. She held up a finger for him to wait while she finished up on a phone call.

“Thank you, Mr. Garcia, we’ll get the motion to the Bronx office first thing Friday morning. Okay. You, too. Bye.” She hung up the phone and looked up at him carefully.

“Hey,” he said, still a little out of breath from his adventure to get there.

“What’re you doing here?” Betty asked. “Not that I’m not excited, I’m just about to go on lunch. Is everything okay?”

He stepped behind her desk and held his hands out for her to take. When she stood, he lifted her up and spun her around in a bear hug. He could hear her giggling in his ear and her arms were around his shoulders tightly.

“Everything is fantastic,” he said as he put her down. “Are you busy Saturday around this time?”

“I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly. “Why?”

“I got an interesting phone call today,” he said, the smile still on his face.

He explained the phone call to Betty, every detail of what Normal Martinez had told him.

“Jughead!” Betty squealed. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, this is what you wanted!” she said, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“So are you going to come with me?” he smiled at her expectantly.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

\--

They walked into the main entrance of the studio, checking in with the receptionist. They sat and waited anxiously for whoever to come and collect them. Jughead’s leg was bouncing relentlessly, despite Betty trying to quell his nerves with her gentle touch.

This was the first day of the rest of his life. _ No, _ he thought. _ That was the day I met Betty. This is just the icing on the cake. _

“Mr. Jones?” a very tall man clad in a leather jacket called from the door.

Betty and Jughead stood up and approached him. 

“That’s me,” Jughead said gripping Betty’s hand. “And this is my fiance, Betty.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you both. I’m Norman Martinez, but please, call me Sweet Pea,” he said shaking their hands. “If you’d follow me this way, we’re in the conference room.”

Jughead glanced at Betty and her eyes were smiling. They followed the large man back down a well-lit hallway decorated in platinum records from artists Jughead has looked up to his entire life. Sweet Pea held open the door for them and ushered them to a loveseat across from various chairs and couches.

There was a manila folder in the center of the table, _ Jones _, marked on the outside of it. He swallowed thickly. It was real. This was not some kind of practical joke. This was all very much real and he was overwhelmed. He looked over to Betty who seemed just as overwhelmed as he did - at least it wasn’t only him.

When Sweet Pea walked back into the room, Jughead noticed the snake tattoo on his neck and the ink on his thumb. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he found it soothing. He watched as the snake moved along with his skin as other people filled into the room.

“Jughead,” another man said, and it snapped him back into reality.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“We were very impressed with you,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“But the icing on the cake for us was that original piece you wrote a few months ago. We were at La Bonne Nuit that night. A few of our reps often go out looking for something special, and I believe we have found something spectacular with you. Would you mind telling me what was going through your head when you wrote it?”

What a loaded question.

“When I finally decided to pursue music full time, this lovely lady supported me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it. Not to go into too much personal detail that will probably bore you,” he rambled. “I wrote it for her,” he gripped at her hand mindlessly. “I proposed a few hours later.”

The man smiled and he could see the blush on Betty’s cheek. 

“That is a beautiful thing,” another man said. “And you’ve got other songs you’re working on or just that one?”

“I’ve got about seven more completed and a bunch still in the works,” Jughead affirmed.

The conversation continued, the people of Republic asking questions and Jughead telling his honest truth. He was so happy Betty was with him, it calmed him, kept him honest. After a half hour or chit-chat, Sweet Pea interjected.

“How would you feel about laying something down?”

“That would be a dream,” he confessed and the tattooed man smiled.

He ushered them into an empty studio, opening a door into a room with a keyboard and a microphone. Betty stayed back with Sweet Pea and Jughead settled himself on the small stool. HIs fingers grazed the keyboard in front of him and he was so very thankful for everything in his life that brought him to his exact moment.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sweet Pea said from the control room. 

He could have picked any song to record, but he played his song for her. It seemed like the only one worthy at the time. He did it in one take.

“Wow,” Sweet Pea said, opening the door. “It isn’t often we get one-take wonders in here.”

“I can do it again, if you need me to,” Jughead said, nervously.

“No. It was perfect,” he said, escorting them back into the conference room.

They waited in the room for a few minutes alone.

“You okay?” Betty asked him.

“This is a dream come true. And it wouldn’t mean anything if you weren’t right here,” he said, kissing her softly. 


	29. Chapter 29

** _day xxix : a song you remember from childhood - Rockin’ Robin - Bobby Day_ **

The next few months were a whirlwind. After Jughead had signed with Republic Records, it seemed like he had a session every night. If he wasn’t in the studio recording, he was working in their office working on new material. He seemed to be incredibly inspired.

She went to work and came home to find him still hunched over the keyboard. He’d recorded an EP - his first single  _ The One _ \- her song - was starting to pick up popularity on the radio. Before long, she couldn’t walk into any store without hearing it. She smiled every time.

There were photo shoots and video shoots they requested of him. That was where the first snag came to be.

“They want some random girl in the video of your song,” Jughead explained over dinner. “I told them that wouldn’t work. If there was going to be any girl, it had to be you. It feels wrong otherwise.”

“Are you telling me you want me to be in your music video?” Betty laughed, shoving a bite of chicken into her mouth. 

“It’s either than, or no video. No pressure,” he winked.

She pretended to mull it over, cocking her head to either side before she smiled. “Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I know you’re busy,” he shrugged.

“Never too busy for my favorite rockstar.”

\--

It wasn’t long after the release that Betty started getting recognized as  _ that girl from Jughead Jones’ music video _ . It didn’t bother her, at first, but after the eighteenth time in three days, she was very much over having lost her identity. She went to work and kept her routine as usual.

Despite his growing fame, Jughead and Betty maintained their weekly date nights. They tried to keep everything as normal as possible. Sometimes she wishes things were back to how they were before he’d made a name for himself. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t proud of him.

Before long, his first full length record came out and his manager that he signed at the beginning of this life change wanted to book him on festivals and there were talks of a North American tour to promote the album.

They’d been contacted by movie studios asking for rights to use his songs in films and commercials - things that would propel him to be a global sensation. She thought it would have taken longer to achieve this level of success, but he’d been putting in the work - doing the things his team had encouraged him to do.

When it came to big decisions, he always consulted Betty. It was never a question, by the third time the producers had asked him something, they’d already known he was going to say he had to talk to her about it first. 

Above everything, she was happy that Jughead didn’t lose himself. He was still the same person she fell in love with - the same person who made her burst into tears in a crowd of strangers - still hers, even if he did have a few tattoos now. The first he’d gotten was for her, right above his heart. She’d surprised him with one to match.

He’d taken to wearing a silver band early in his success. He finally had told her the full story about the woman who hit on him - how he wasn’t wearing a ring - but now he never leaves home without it. He told her it’s a constant reminder of her love and support, especially when he’s feeling discouraged.

“Would you want to come on tour with me? I don’t think I could do six months traveling the country without my best girl,” he’d said to her in bed one night.

“You don’t want me there,” Betty insisted, snuggling into his chest, trying to bury her face.

“You’re the only person I want there.”


	30. Chapter 30

** _day xxx : a song that reminds you of yourself Last of the American Girls/She’s a Rebel - American Idiot OBCR_ **

He was so thankful she agreed to come on tour with him. He’d known that she was miserable at work, wanted a change and he thought this would be a stellar way to get her out into the world, to experience new things and to find a new passion. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted her there. He did, so desperately. 

Luckily, he was making enough money that she didn’t need to work - the opposite of the beginning of his career. She’d supported them both for so long, he was happy that he finally could do that for her. 

His manager was accommodating. He loved Betty, too, considered her just as much a part of the Republic family as they did Jughead. They’d made sure their tour bus had a bed big enough for them to share and enough space for the items they’d need for their six month journey before heading back to New York to their apartment.

She sat backstage every night, listening to his same sets with little variation, a smile on her face the entire time. When the tour stopped in Ohio, they made it a point to visit JB for a few hours. They saw the country through the tinted glass of the bus window, but they were together and they were happy.

He was living his dream and the twelve year old inside of him still couldn’t believe he had everything he’d always wanted  _ and _ Betty.

\--

“When we get home tomorrow, let’s get married,” Betty said half asleep as the bus rolled on toward New York.

They hadn’t necessarily discussed the full plans and details. “What?”

“We’ll go to the courthouse tomorrow when we get home. Unless you want to wait.”

“What about the big fancy wedding you’ve always wanted?”

“I don’t need it. I just need you,” she yawned, snuggling into him closer.

“Than tomorrow it is,” he agreed, kissing the top of her head.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :) find me on tumblr and bughead family discord @shrugheadjonesthethird


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